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Giving Voice to the Voiceless: Professor Miranda Spieler's New Book on Slaves in Paris

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“I study people on the run,” says AUP Professor Miranda Spieler, a historian of France and its overseas empire whose expertise spans European legal history, human rights, slavery and emancipation. Her first book, Empire and Underworld: Captivity in French Guiana (Harvard, 2012), chronicled the lives of ex-convicts, freed slaves, and non-European immigrants—people pushed to the margins of French and colonial society and rendered “nonpersons” during the 18thand 19th centuries, a time when France was proclaiming the ideals of ±ôľ±˛ú±đ°ůłŮĂ©.Ěý

But as she probed these histories, Spieler saw that something key was missing: the perspective and everyday lives of the people she studied. In the archives, she says, accessing the voices of oppressed people is always a problem. At best, those voices are “mediated by a scribe, an interpreter, a policeman, an interrogator.” All historians of subaltern people, and particularly historians of slavery, confront the “spiritual and methodological difficulty of grappling with voiceless subjects who are not even named in the sources.”  

Spieler’s query—how to tell the stories of marginalized people on their own terms—sparked a decade-long that culminated in her new book, (Harvard, 2025), recently featured on the podcast.Ěý

She approached the work using two unique methods. The first was to create “rich, embedded biographies” of five enslaved people from Africa, the Caribbean, and the Indian Ocean—people who have not had "a life in French history before.” In the absence of firsthand records, Spieler drew from France’s vast institutional archives, including Bastille police files, to do what she calls “granular work on neighborhoods”: mapping subjects' physical environment, hiding places, and confidants to create a spatial history.Ěý

One chapter, for example, follows the story of Pauline, a former slave of the governor of the Réunion and Mauritius colonies. Pauline fled to Paris and sought refuge in a building that has since become the Bank of France —a juxtaposition of vulnerability and institutional power. “Slaves in Paris become visible once we decide to ask new questions—and learn to look."   

Spieler’s focus on personal narratives also helps readers relate on an emotional level. “When exploring moral abstractions, and technical legal structures," she says, “it's best to do that through the prism of individual people's lives.” 

Spieler’s second innovation is “to show how very marginal people can actually open up a new picture of the way we view Paris.” She points out that 1790 was not only the second year of the French Revolution, but also the apex of the French slave trade. Rather than seeing Paris as divided between pro- and anti-slavery positions, Spieler depicts the city as a place without an abolitionist movement, dependent on slavery and the slave trade, where well-meaning Parisians still tried, and usually failed, to help fugitives.Ěý  

Ultimately, Slaves in Paris portrays a city full of contradictions and tangles of laws, identities, and interactions. “The point was not to make strident ideological statements about what Parisians were like, but to show the range of possibilities and texture of these relationships,” she says. The book raises more questions than it answers, which Spieler sees as her job: “to open up new fields of inquiry and opportunities for collaboration.” Her next project applies the same biographical lens to the history of abolition in France, this time through the lives of families.Ěý

Spieler says that working at AUP made the book possible in many ways, from the proximity to Paris’s archives, to the time and space to work methodically, to the intellectual freedom afforded to a non-French scholar. These same assets shape her approach in the classroom. “Learning how to study marginal people is fundamental to the way I teach,” she says. AUP students’ diverse perspectives and backgrounds enrich these discussions. “That mixture makes for unpredictable and fascinating exchanges across cultures.”  

Spieler notes that while her students may not all become professional historians, thinking expansively about history is valuable in any career. “They can do all kinds of things: work for television, or in a museum, or write fictional novels,” she says. “It’s really about translating historical knowledge into something the general public understands and cares about.” What she hopes to convey most of all is “a sense of the adventure of being a historian...the beauty and fun of what we do.”Â